Soulless
by HugeAnimefan1
Summary: She's left alone. The world seems dark to her. Everything is her enemy, even her friends. But it's in that darkness that there comes a light . . . in the form of a 24 year old boy with bright green eyes and . . . a scar in the shape of a bolt of lightning
1. Prologue

Disclaimers: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other characters. They belong to the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling. Nor do I own the poem in italics, I just borrowed that from a fic I read and all credit goes to her.

A/N: This is my first try at a Harry Potter fic, so I hope you all enjoy it! Also, if any one recognizes this as similar to some other story, will you please inform so I don't have that author mad at me. Again, enjoy the fic.

Prologue

_I am strong_

"Oh, the poor dear," Annie whispered to the medi-wizard beside her.

"I know," Lizzy whispered back, standing on the tip of her toes to also look through the small window into the dark room.

The room was no larger than a small hospital room. The walls seemed padded, along with the ceiling and floor. There was a small bed and a window with bars in place; allowing some light to shine through the narrow openings. If one looked closely though, just into the far corner where the light faded, one could barely make out a crouched figure with a bent head.

"She's been here for three weeks," Annie commented, pulling her sleek blonde hair into a tight bun. "Yet . . . no one's come for the poor dear."

_I stand tall_

"Doesn't she have any where to go? Maybe she has a friend to take her in . . . or a family member?" Lizzy questioned, placing saddened eyes on the figure. Her eyes began to follow the bushy curls of the long-haired brunette.

"No . . . apparently she's a Forgotten," Annie whispered back, her heart going out to the young woman.

Lizzy winced at the answer, being a Forgotten was probably the worst thing that could happen to someone . . . other than losing their soul. The hospital was divided into many levels . . . but people always associated them in three sections. There were the people who could be treated; which took up practically all the floors. One level went to the incurables, and the last to the loonies, located in the basement; in which most of them over time became a Forgotten. There just wasn't someone in the world to take them in, know them, and love them. They didn't know themselves, nor did others. It was as if the world forgot them, hence the name 'Forgotten'.

_Nothing will break me_

"Are you positive . . . I mean . . . three weeks isn't as long as the other cases." Lizzy just couldn't believe that someone barely younger than herself was already a Forgotten.

"No one has come to check on her . . . She doesn't even know her own name," Annie explained as she started to walk away. "All she does is mutter the same poem, over and over."

"Why is she here? That might help identify her." Lizzy suggested, following after her superior. Not before, though, taking one last look at the woman. Her own green eyes seemed to have locked with the woman's dull brown. The moon cast a light glow on her face before retracting its gift. Lizzy gasp as a thought passed.

_I will not fall_

"We've been trying every day to examine her . . . but we can't," Annie explained as she straightened out her white medi-robe.

"Why?" Lizzy asked absentmindedly as she started to try and place a name to the face she saw. She could have sworn she had seen it before.

"Because, every time we get close to the girl, she goes and sends bloody hexes at us left and right. It's like the bloody Americans and their fireworks!" Annie exclaimed, getting irritated with the constant questioning.

"Wait!" Lizzy exclaimed, briefly forgetting the topic at hand of the face and its bearer. "Didn't she have her wand taken away?"

"I told you, she does nothing but shoot spells . . . there's no possible way we could get that wand away. It's almost as if she's afraid of everything."

_My heart will not break_

"I don't believe that." Lizzy spoke as she waved her wand to move pans that fell to the ground. "Do you have any guess as to why she's like that?"

"I'm not positive," Annie started, flicking her wrist to help the younger woman out. Before she spoke her next words she gave a quick glance around to make sure no one was listening. "But I think the dear had her soul taken away."

"Oh! I don't believe there's any thing more scary than that!" Lizzy exclaimed, her heart going out even more to the girl.

_Standing still through all my fears_

"Shh! I'm not positive, but she has the signs," Annie whispered. "Well . . . except for the fact that she seems more in tune with her surroundings."

"That's a good thing then?" Lizzy questioned eagerly. "Doesn't that mean she can be cured? We can save the girl!"

"No!" Annie snapped. "It doesn't mean that. The fact of the matter is that no soul means no soul. Just because the girl seems to be more . . . more animated than the others doesn't mean she can be cured."

_Time will pass and things will heal_

"But Annie . . . it doesn't hurt to hope. I mean, does it?"

"It does hurt to hope Lizzy . . ." Annie spoke in a solemn tone. Knowing what the younger woman meant and how she felt. But it was her duty with her more knowledgeable experience to set things straight so that the nurse wouldn't think her to be cold-hearted. "Just like when you deal with all incurables. The Forgotten, it especially hurts to hope, because things never turn out the way you want. It just is hard to believe them to be able to have a happy ending."

"I guess . . . but I just feel like I know the girl."

"You have that feeling too?" Annie gasped, delighted somewhat that some one else also recognized her and she wasn't turning into a loony herself.

"It seemed to have grown when I caught a glimpse of her face," Lizzy explained before coming to a stop to pick up a fallen copy of the _Daily Prophet_. She stared down at the familiar face of the Boy Wonder, Harry Potter. That's hen she let out a gasp of surprise as some thing clicked.

"I think I know who she is," Lizzy breathed in dazed tone.

"Well . . . who is she Lizzy? Spit it out!"

"I think she's Hermione Granger . . ."

_As the world goes by with my silent tears._


	2. Please, Take Care of Her

Disclaimers: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: I want to thank the following for taking the chance to read my story and giving me their comments:

Wrinkles the Troll

wolfdemonGrl

klen

horsegal628

I'm really thankful to you guys! I would also like to warn the readers that this is a spoiler for all books . . . and a teensy bit for the new one, but there's nothing too big in this chapter. Now, please enjoy the first official chapter!

Chapter One: Please, Take Care of Her

"I swear, Ronald Weasley, you are the **most** infuriating person on the planet!" A woman exclaimed, as she pointed a shaky finger towards a tall, chuckling man with fiery red hair and freckles.

"But Hermione," the red-head chuckled some more, "it's just a harmless little prank. Besides, have you met everyone on the planet?"

"I swear," the woman called Hermione sneered, "if it wasn't a crisis right now, I'd hex you into oblivion!" Her brown eyes livid, and bushy brown hair flying every where . . . though at the moment, it was green from the layer of slime in it.

"But why?" Ron questioned, knowing perfectly well that he was pushing her buttons. But, in his opinion, Hermione needed this, she wastoo serious, even if they were in a war.

"But why? But why? You have the **nerve** to ask why?" Hermione shrieked; fighting hard not to grip her wand and send every hex she knew towards the tall man. "We have just **barely** escaped -yet another- fight with Death Eaters!" Hermione emphasized her point by gesturing to the burning building behind them. ". . . and here you are, acting like a git as always, pulling pranks! I'm sure Harry agrees with me," Hermione commented, waving a hand towards the untidy black-haired man, who seemed was trying very hard to not laugh, he even went to the extent of covering his mouth with his hands.

"Hey, don't bring me into yet **another** one of your two's squabbles," he said lightly, bringing his hands up in a defensive position.

"Oh, I give up! You two are hopeless!" Hermione sighed, throwing her arms upas a sign of defeat.

"Hopeless?" Ron muttered, as he side-stepped around Hermione to stand next to Harry. "Hopeless at what? Love? 'Cause I think she's got that down pat."

"Hmph!" Harry snorted into his fist, his emerald green eyes looking skyward as Hermione sent him a look.

"What are you two talking about?" Hermione questioned as she looked suspiciously between the two.

Harry and Ron stared at her briefly before glancing at each other. It seemed the look between them was just too much to handle, because soon the two were doubled over in laughter. They looked up at Hermione's confusedface before their laughter grew by ten-fold.

"Alright, I give," Hermione sighed in defeat, placing her hands on her hips. "Just what has gotten into the two of you? You're acting as if you're . . . you're . . . as if you are mad."

"Hermione . . . it's not me, it's you . . ." Ron gasped out between his laughs. He watched as Hermione's expression grew more confused with the use of that favorite break-up line. Her confusion and look of helplessness only seemed to send him into another fit.

"Here," was the only thing Harry could say as he placed her before a nearby car. Hermione took one look before her jaw dropped in horror and she had the strong urge to scream . . . which she gladly would have if it hadn't been for the sounds of two laughing men behind her. She willed herself to calm down and think rationally.

_'Okay Hermione . . . just calm down. Breathe in and out . . . in and out. The gits are just laughing at your unfinished job of getting rid of that God awful slime.' _Hermione thought as she peered at her reflection which showed a young woman with half a head of brown, bushy hair and half a head of green slime.

_'You know . . . it is actually quite funny.' _Hermione thought with a considering look before a small giggle escaped her lips. Before anyone knew what was happening, Hermione was full out laughing hysterically. Ron and Harry immediately stopped their laughter as they watched Hermione have to lean against the car for support.

"I told you," Ron spoke in an undertone. "She's bonkers . . . has been since the first day we met her."

"You don't think . . . she went and put a Cheering Charm on herself because we made her feel so bad?" Harry muttered, shooting an incredulous look at the tears now forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Could be," Ron replied. He stared more intently in her direction. "Nah . . . she's just nutters—Argh!" Ron shouted as he felt his legs go stiff and stick together. The lack of movement caused his weight to over balance and Ron felt himself falling towards the hard concrete.

"Now . . . that wasn't a very nice thing to say," Hermione said in a serious tone, lowering her wand and placing it in her burnt coat.

"Bloody hell!" Ron cursed, staring at Hermione in disbelief. "You hexed me! You bloody hexed me! Even after that speech about how you wouldn't hex me because we're in the middle of a crisis!"

"I wouldn't," Hermione explained calmly, smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle. "But we are no longer in a crisis," she nodded her head in the direction of the house where the Accidental Reversal Squad was putting out the last flames and Aurors and Medi-wizards were hard at work talking to witnesses. "So I have every liberty to hex you." She said with finality, before turning her attention to Harry.

"You bloody witch, un-hex me now!"

"Now . . ." Hermione started, stepping over Ron, acting as if he hadn't spoken. "We've just escaped another attempt at our lives, so . . . Harry do you want to fill out the paperwork now, or we can go out and celebrate and then you can fill out all the paperwork you want?" Hermione asked.

"Um . . . well . . . you see . . ." Harry started, wanting to tell her that he really should **start** the paperwork first. But one look at the puppy-pout she was sporting and Harry knew he didn't have any other choice. "Sure, Hermione, let's go."

"Great!" Hermione cheered, looping her arm through Harry's. "I know of this great place near home."

"My home or your home?" Harry questioned.

"My home, of course!"

"Of course, because everyone knows that a 21-year-old who lives with her parents can call the house her home," Harry commented giving her a sideways glance.

"What are you insinuating, Mr. Potter? I mean, it's not like every 21-year-old has some hidden fortune or works as an Auror." Hermione peered upwards to his face.

"You guys! You can't leave me here!" Ron hollered, interrupting what Harry was going to say.

"Of course we can!" Hermione called over her shoulder. "It's what we're doing now!"

"Guys! C'mon! Harry! Help a mate out! I'm hungry too, Hermione! I can't believe you two are abandoning me! Did I mention I was hungry!" Ron rambled on.

"I know we **can** leave him there, but are we?" Harry asked, lowering his head to whisper in Hermione's ear.

"Oh . . . did you really believe me that cruel?" Hermione whispered back, a sudden gleam entering her eyes, causing Harry to desperately want to take his words back. "For I know it'd be just wicked to leave Ron in the street. But believe you me; I was going to contact George or Fred when we got to our destination."

"And how would you do that? We're heading to a muggle restaurant."

"Well . . ." Hermione decided to ponder on that question before finally snapping. "Okay, Ronald! But we won't be waiting for you! You'll have to catch up if you want food!" Hermione exclaimed while doing a nice flick of the wrist with her wand; sending jets of blue lights backwards at Ron.

"Alright!" Ron cheered happily as he got the feeling back in his legs. He jumped up and started doing some stretches before realizing that Harry and Hermione were a good fifty feet in front of him. "Hey, wait up you two!"

X.X

"Hermione, Hermione," Harry sighed as he shifted the bundle on his back. "What **have** you been eating?"

"That was mean," Hermione hissed in his ear. Harry braced himself for the blow he knew would be coming. Which is why he was surprisingly shocked when he didn't receive one.

"What? No hit?" Harry blurted out without thinking.

"No . . ." Hermione mumbled, burying her head in the juncture where Harry's neck and shoulder connected. "Too tired . . . and drunk."

"Don't I know it? I know you're a bright witch, Hermione, but what on earth possessed you to challenge a man in a drinking game?"

"That's two hexes I owe you," Hermione muttered. "And it's thinking like that, that made me want to drink Ron under the table."

"Oh come off it Hermione. You know that you get drunk faster than a house-elf drinking Butterbeer."

"So . . ." Hermione drawled out. "That doesn't mean I can't prove myself once in awhile."

"Prove what? How completely stupid you can be?"

"Oh, hello mum." Hermione greeted as she lifted her head up and stared blearily at the woman before her.

"Hello, dear," Mrs. Granger said in a stern tone, changing completely as she turned her attention to Harry. "Hello, Harry, dear. Thanks for once again bringing Hermione home safely after she's done something foolish."

Harry stared nervously from the woman in the doorway wearing a fluffy pink bathrobe to the drunken one on his back.

_'Great job Boy-Who-Lived . . . now you get to die either by your best friend, or your best friend's mother; who at the moment looks ready to kill anything that moves.'_

"N-n-no problem," Harry stammered; growing even more nervous from the motherly smile Mrs. Granger gave him and the glare coming from Hermione.

A light wind blew on by, brushing the hems of everyone's clothes. Mrs. Granger's chestnut eyes slanted expectantly between her daughter and her daughter's best friend. The grandfather clock behind her chimed twice, informing her of just how late her child thought fit to stay out.

"Well, mum . . . it's been fun, but it's time for me to go to bed," Hermione spoke, faking an extravagant yawn as she hopped off of Harry's back.

"I don't think so," Mrs. Granger snapped. "You and Harry are going to come into the kitchen for some tea," (she ignored Harry's protest and blatant refusal), "and you two are going to explain why you're coming home so late, **dear**," she sneered, stepping aside and waving them in.

Harry and Hermione hung their heads while grudgingly trudging the familiar path of going from the front door, through the foyer, then the family room, finally arriving and taking their seats at the dining table in the kitchen.

"So, explain," Mrs. Granger commanded, placing three tea cups none too gently on the table before removing from the stove an already made pot of tea. "And it better not be about You-Know-Who!"

Harry gave a stunned look at Hermione, now realizing Hermione had informed her mother of the situation in the Wizarding World.

"Well . . . mum . . ." Hermione started nervously, sending Harry a pleading look. "It's just that . . . well . . . he dared me!" Hermione exclaimed, sounding more sober than a few moments before.

Harry blinked at Hermione's outburst. Confusion immediately consumed him as Hermione's words sunk in. 'He dared me!' She said. He knew he must of heard her wrong, because why would Lord Voldemort dare Hermione to do anything. First, she was a muggle-born and Lord Voldemort despised muggle-borns. Second, Hermione would rather bite off her own hand before she did anything for Voldemort even if it was a dare. Third, it was Lord Voldemort! What was the world coming to?

"Really, Hermione . . . you're impossible! You can't do things just because people dare you to!" Mrs. Granger exclaimed. "And no buts," Mrs. Granger added as she gave her daughter a stern look. "Because I really don't agree with your 'dare' excuse. I think you're much too friendly with him."

"Of course I'm friendly with him! He's my best friend!" Hermione proclaimed, earning a bewildered look from Harry and an exasperated one from her mother.

_'Best friend?' _Harry thought, not believing his ears. _'Best friend? Voldemort is her best friend?'_ He wanted to ask her if she was mad but her mother began to speak again.

"I'm sure, Hermione, that you're **just** friends. That's what all girls say when they're in love."

"Yeah, right," Hermione snorted in disgust. "Why would I love him when he's kissing up Lavender . . . again."

_'Lavender too!'_ Harry fumed. _'I would think she of all people would never come near Voldemort with the way she almost lost her best friend!'_

"See, you're jealous," Mrs. Granger said in a satisfied tone, her face holding a bemused expression.

"Enough!" Harry shouted, slamming his hand on the surface of the rough pine table. "Hermione, how could you consider Voldemort a friend, let alone **love** him!" Harry spat out the word with disgust. "I mean he sent-"

"What!" Hermione exclaimed, cutting Harry off. "I don't love Voldemort! How could you think that!" Hermione gave him such a revolted look that Harry had the impression she was thinking of flubberworms or skrewts.

"But . . . but . . . your mum said 'You-Know-Who' and . . . and you didn't disagree . . . then you guys started . . . talking about relationships and . . . what!" Harry snapped; irked by the fact that Hermione had begun to laugh.

"You . . . I can't believe . . . we were . . . we were . . . talking about Ron!" Hermione managed to say through her laughing.

"Ron?" Harry repeated, going back into confused mode.

"Yeah . . . you see, in my house when we talk about Lord Voldemort . . . we, well, we say Voldemort. But my mum likes to refer to Ron as 'You-Know-Who' in front of company because she believes it's less embarrassing for me. Though I disagree, because then people start to give me expectant looks saying things like **You-Know-Who**," Hermione explained as her laughter subsided, giving him a very good impression of the so-called look.

"Oh . . ." Harry said, dumbfounded. Then came to his senses and added sarcastically, "why didn't **I** think of that?"

"Dear," Mrs. Granger started dangerously as she confirmed the two's discussion was over. "What **exactly** did you guys do tonight? It seems to have slipped my mind."

"That's because we didn't tell you anything," Hermione spoke in an undertone towards Harry, causing him to have to turn away so Mrs. Granger wouldn't see the look on his face. "We went out to a nearby restaurant."

"And **before** that?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, trying to look the essence of innocence.

"Hermione," Mrs. Granger sighed tiredly, "don't tell me you were out there fighting this Voldemort person again."

Harry was amazed that one, Mrs. Granger figured that out so quickly and two how easily it was for muggles to say Lord Voldemort's name without batting an eye while wizards and witches alike were terrified.

"Fine, then I won't," Hermione said cheekily.

"Hermione!" Mrs. Granger exclaimed so suddenly that Harry and Hermione jumped out of their seats. "I thought I told you to stay away from that!"

"It's not like I go looking for it!" Hermione protested, only saying half the truth. Indeed, some nights, like tonight, they would just be trying to relax when Death Eaters surround them; sending curses left and right. Whereas, on other nights, they would purposefully look for trouble.

"Then what happened?"

"Well, Harry, Ron, and I were just relaxing in the park when Ron said he wanted us to come look at this house he was thinking of buying," Hermione started. Harry nodded eagerly as Mrs. Granger sent him a quizzical look. "So we get there, it's located in a nice wizarding community, and we go in for a peek. We're in there for fifteen maybe twenty minutes when suddenly Death Eaters appear. That's why we were in a fight."

"I see," Mrs. Granger said darkly. Her chestnut eyes began to gaze intently at Harry and Hermione. Harry shifted uncomfortably under her unnerving stare, feeling as if she was peering into his very soul. Finally her eyes left them and landed on the ticking clock behind their heads.

"Well, it's getting rather late, dears. I believe Harry might want to head home," she commented, briefly glancing at Harry before her eyes went back to the clock.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, taking the hint gratefully. As much as he liked Mrs. Granger, he thought it best not to be in her company when she was angry.

"Here, I'll walk you to the door," Hermione offered, jumping out of her seat; glad at the opportunity to get away from her mother.

"No, dear," Mrs. Granger interrupted, her tone ceasing all action in the room. Silence reined, so that the only noise came from behind them-the clock. Finally Mrs. Granger spoke again, "You stay here. **I'll** walk Harry to the door. There will be no arguments," she added as Hermione opened her mouth to speak.

With that said, Harry rose from his seat; as did Mrs. Granger. Hermione crossed her arms angrily and pouted as her eyes followed the movements of her mother and best friend. An uncomfortable silence rested between Harry and Mrs. Granger as they left the kitchen and made their way back to the front door. Harry was about to wrap his hand around the brass door knob when a hand rested lightly on his shoulder. He turned around to see a morose looking Mrs. Granger who was staring at him with sadden eyes shimmering with tears.

"Listen, Harry, dear," she started, making sure Harry was staring directly in her eyes. "I know that there's something that has been going on in the wizarding world and that **you** of all people are mostly involved . . . even though I wish it wasn't so. But, I want you to know . . . though I haven't known you for a very long time . . . though Hermione speaks nothing but of you . . . that I think of you like a son."

Harry stood stunned, not quite sure if he heard her correctly. Then he was filled with warmth, touched that she thought that of him.

"I know that you, Hermione, and Ron are all doing things that are risky to your lives. I also know that nothing I say will change your three's minds to stop. So, I have one thing to ask of you."

Harry felt himself nod numbly as a great feeling of guilt filled him as he realized how much pain he was actually causing this gentle woman.

"Will you . . . Can you . . . I want you . . . It's just that Hermione . . . She's my only child . . . I love her so much . . . the thought that she's purposefully placing herself in danger . . . Please, take care of her . . . Will you?" Mrs. Granger managed to say through her tears, long since crying.

"I . . . of . . ." Harry stammered, taken aback by her question. He looked at her, then to the bushy-haired girl who was peeking her head out of the kitchen. He realized what he should say. He placed his hands upon Mrs. Granger's shoulders and looked seriously into her eyes. "Of course, I will."

"Oh, thank God!" Mrs. Granger cheered, breaking into a bright smile. "Just knowing you'll watch over her . . . It'll help me rest at night! Oh, thank you!" She exclaimed as she flung her arms around his neck.

Harry nervously patted the woman's shoulders as he saw Hermione giving him the thumbs up and a wide grin.

"Well, dear," Mrs. Granger said as she pulled back from him, wiping away some stray tears. "Look at the time . . . you should hurry, or you'll be too tired for work." As she spoke she slipped behind him and opened the door.

"Good night, Mrs. Granger," Harry nodded as he walked out into the cool refreshing night air.

"Good night, dear," she smiled before shutting the door. "You can come out now Hermione."

Hermione sheepishly came out of her hiding place and made her way to her mother.

"Don't give me that look," Mrs. Granger snapped, causing the smile to leave Hermione's face. "What were you thinking, fighting tonight! No, don't answer that, I already know the answer. You weren't thinking at all!"

"Now, that's not fair!" Hermione protested, her face contorting in anger. "It's not like I'm carrying around a large neon sign that says: Attack me please!"

"No, even better, you're hanging around Harry! Don't think I wasn't listening when you told me about how he's the Boy-Who-Lived or something like that! Hermione, you're just asking for trouble when you insist upon hanging around with him!"

"So what! You can't make me stop seeing Harry! I'm an adult, mum!"

"You may be an adult, but you're a foolish one at that! What sensible adult walks around, purposefully placing themselves in dangerous situations!"

"Like you said to Harry, you can't stop me, mum!"

"My goodness, what would your father say if he could just hear you now!" Mrs. Granger exclaimed, throwing her arms up in exasperation. Then suddenly a curious expression took over. She sent the grandfather clock a quick look before the color drained from her face. "Where **is** your father?"

Hermione grew curious too. Her father was never a heavy sleeper. In actuality, he woke up to the lightest of sounds. The fact that her mother and herself were yelling loud enough to wake up the whole neighborhood and her father didn't come down to investigate why they were making so much racket was very disturbing.

"AH!"

Hermione looked up at her screaming mother who was pointing to the area behind her shoulders. Hermione whipped around to have her mouth drop in horror. There in her living room appeared nine or ten hooded, cloaked figures. They were everywhere in the family room and one particularly in the middle was holding up a middle-aged man who appeared to be dead. This time Hermione did scream.

"DAD!" She watched in horror as the figures began to laugh. An unknown fury seemed to fill her. She glowered at them as she said venomously, "Death Eaters."


End file.
